


Shall You Sleep Forever?

by doctor_jasley



Series: Snow White au [1]
Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Background Character Death, M/M, Multi, Spells & Enchantments, creepy children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_jasley/pseuds/doctor_jasley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things don't work out the way you think they should. Brendon's not complaining, but he would prefer not to be in an enchanted slumber. Otherwise known as the Snow White AU(an extremely loose interpretation that's completely jazzed up by me)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shall You Sleep Forever?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2010 for au bingo.

Snow falls at a rapid pace. It doesn’t stop and it doesn’t slow, covering the countryside and surrounding woodland areas in a heavy blanket of blindingly bright whiteness. Brendon watches from the tiny window of the carriage, trying his best to think of a better plan of escape. Nothing good will come of this carriage ride if he makes it into the Cardinal City. The Queen, his aunt, wants his presence at her table and he’s certain there’s not a peaceably, happy reason for this summons.

The carriage is the first clue, because it’s not adorned with the trappings of royalty, almost as if it’s trying to hide the fact that it’s carrying a relative of the Queen herself. Though, Brendon guesses that really on it’s own that shouldn’t mean anything. The Queen has never liked him. Not when he was nine and his family caught their death on the edge of the Cipeer River during the Joining month, and she took him in as some charity case to prove to her subjects that she was a kind and benevolent ruler. And not even when he was twelve and was the only reason her son, heir apparent to the throne, was pulled from the ice after a breakthrough over the garden pond occurred.

She never stops glaring and staring at him maliciously whenever he’s asked to appear in front of her. Brendon has never been sure what he did to capture her ire and anger, other than existing, and he’s most certain that one day she’ll plan for him to just disappear into the vastness of the Marrow Fields. If it’s in his ability to keep himself from the fields of the dead then he’d rather go that route than let his aunt steal anything else from him.

Lord Saporta is still at his side and Brendon’s reminded again why he’s sure this carriage ride is taking him to his death. Gabe isn’t all flamboyant motions with boisterously lewd comments dripping from his lips, like his usual self. It could be that the Queen’s finally realized that one of her closest advisors has been conversing with her exiled nephew for years now. Or it could be that she still doesn’t know, but is willing to use their obvious acquaintanceship as a way to lure him to the castle eagerly so she can do whatever it is that she wishes to do.

Either way, it doesn’t really matter, because his mind won’t let him think of anything else. He’s spent three years in Moss at the brotherhood attending to the household chores for the Monks, who were forever in prayer or transcribing the words of the good book down on parchment. There’s no reason for him to be called back to the royal city now. Which means the Queen’s whims have changed from wanting to hide him from the world into something else and he’s finally tired of it. He’s of age now, has been for awhile now, and if he wants to steer his path differently then he’s going to have to do something soon.

His left hand curls around the handle of the carriage door about the same time something solid nudges into the glove covered side of his fingers resting against the cracked leather of the seat. The motion startles him and his left hand slips from its position at the door when his head snaps towards Gabe. There’s a sheathed dagger sitting next to his right hand and Gabe looks sad and almost closed off when his gaze drifts up.

Not for the first time since Gabe showed up for him yesterday morning, has it escaped Brendon’s notice that Gabe’s clothed completely in shades of morose black. He’s usually in attire that’s shot through with hues of purple, bright green, yellow, or vibrant blue. Not the mourning tones of ebony that he’s draped in now. It’s actually the other reason Brendon’s sure he’s not going to make it out of this unless he does something drastic. Gabe’s only ever worn black once before and it was in mourning of the death of his closest friend Lord Beckett back when Brendon was sixteen and about to be shuffled off to Moss.

The dagger nudges his hand again and Brendon wraps his fingers around it and tugs it into his lap, his left hand straying back up to the carriage’s inside door handle. The moment his right hand moves, Gabe grabs it and Brendon twists so that he’s got a good grip on the handle, just in case. He’s not expecting Gabe to hurt him. If he was going to he would have already, and suddenly Brendon stiffens because the empty traveling trunk that was slid under the other seat when they stopped at Thatchery around midday finally makes so much more sense than it did earlier.

Everything slows down, and Gabe leans forward enough to kiss Brendon. They shouldn’t be doing this, because if the Queen found out she’d be furious. Gabe pulls back, whispers of magic hidden in the nonsense he’s murmuring against Brendon’s lips. The words curl in Brendon’s hair and send tiny drips of warmth to slip down his neck to under his collar, where they settle. It’s akin to the protection spell from three years prior, except this one is heavier with something promising tucked into the center of it.

There’s a loud snapping noise and the horses speed up, the sound of their hooves reverberating up from the mistreated cobbles of the old untended merchant road. In an instant, everything goes from the almost crawling pace of a snail enchantment to the chaotically fast blur of time doing its best to play catch up with itself. The carriage door flies open and Brendon follows it, almost forgetting to let go when the momentum flings him out into the snowy weather.

Dropping from the carriage door isn’t a problem, rolling and tumbling several times after is a different story though, and Brendon ends up curled in on himself when he finally stops moving, pain and fear clashing for dominance in his thoughts. The carriage continues on in the distance, snow and low visibility gobbling it up before he’s even stilled enough to try and trip up to his feet. His left ankle’s probably sprained but not broken and he’s bruised from head to toe. He’s alive, though, so he’s not going to complain.

The landscape is frozen and empty. Sunlight filters weakly through the light grey cloud cover and Brendon’s got maybe one good hour of daylight left before dusk will set in, bringing colder more frigid temperatures with it. He needs to find some sort of shelter soon or he’ll end up frozen solid, but travel is hard because of the heavy snow falling, the accumulation covering the ground, and his ankle not wanting to support him fully.

Perhaps it was a bad idea, but there were no other options. Heading into Cardinal City was out from the start. Slipping out at Druiery would have been too tricky and nothing else would have even got him close to being free. This, however, works to his advantage. No one would expect him to survive if word filtered back to the Queen.

Dusk comes and goes, bleeding into inky night, and the landscape yields no shelter except for a barren oak or elm tree occasionally. The snow doesn’t stop falling, and Brendon’s sure he’s going to freeze, the heavy fabric of his winter coat finally failing to hold out all of the cold. His right foot catches on a snow covered stone and he tumbles into the slowly downward turning slope of the gully to his left. 

Nothing snaps or breaks when he finally comes to rest at the base of a weirdly shadowed fur tree, thankfully. His ankle throbs painfully though and he’s exhausted. Instead of weakly getting up and trying to continue on, Brendon leans against the oddly warm feeling bark of the tree and falls asleep.

Something soft and feathery brushes his face, and Brendon slowly blinks awake. Sunlight skips from cloud to cloud and casts the ground in slight runny shades of gutted yellow. Shards of black dip and shudder around him. The sound of a harsh chirp has him scrabbling his best to get away from the tree as quickly as possible.

He’s not even four paces away when his ankle spikes with pain and he goes down, a tiny yelp breaking free of his throat. The tree in front of him shakes and chirps again, but this time in a different tenor before a third chirp chimes in, lazy and content sounding. Three heads uncurl from the plumage of the fur tree and Brendon just stares because he’s heard of Gaggles before, but only in the fairytales of his youth. Giant birds of yore, thought to be hoarders of treasures and bearers of good fortune.

It doesn’t take long for the Gaggles to finish untangling from each other. The one in the middle is the tallest and thinnest with his plumage and he makes a contented little hum as he grooms his feathers. It’s interesting to watch, and Brendon forgets about the cold seeping into his layers until the shortest, shabbiest of the three Gaggles hops up to him and bends its head down enough to nudge him gently with its beak. After that, the Gaggle chirps and garbles something almost human sounding to the other two. In several quick motions, Brendon’s picked up gingerly by one talon and then they’re all in the air, with him clinging to the talon carrying him with stiff fingers and shaking arms.

The distance flows below them, the Queen’s kingdom passes him by until they’re in another realm and the Gaggles fly into a huge hole scoured into the side of a cliff. He’s released and gently cards his fingers through the feathers of the shabby Gaggle’s wing in thanks. The cave is comfortable, oddly enough, and warm orange tones flicker across the stone walls even though there is no fire to be seen.

Days and weeks pass. Brendon does his best to keep the cave clear of debris and uncomfortable things. The gaggles bring him things for food and other babbles when they go out for the night. He always stays behind, spending most nights watching the shadows play across the ground below. Sometimes he’s sure his hosts are human because he swears he hears them speaking actual languages. Other times he’s not so sure since they act like they don’t notice that he’s heard them when they do end up actually speaking.

A year comes and goes, and finally he’s able to catch them before flight one night. He knows why they go out every night now. It’s taken him so long to piece the story together, but he finally knows for a fact that the Gaggles are enchanted people put under a curse by an angry wizard en-tempered by their relationship. The only way to break the spell is to find their betrothal bands and Brendon’s certain he can help.

Half the night passes before he’s able to convince them to let him search with them. They find nothing, and for a week Brendon does his best to not think about failing. They’ve done so much for him, the least he can do is wander across a frozen landscape in hunt for shining bands of gold, silver, and bronze for them.

One night, maybe a month later, he’s left to pilfer through the ruins of an abandoned barn when something glints in the shards of moonlight filtering through the rotten slats of the roof. Magic curls around his wrist and Brendon _knows_ he’s found something because Gabe’s spell wouldn’t be reacting this way if he was just stumbling upon some piece of trash. His hands start digging through the rubbish piled in one of the corners until one of his fingers touches something that tingles.

It doesn’t take long for him to shine up the bronze ring and run to find his friends. The shorter of the Gaggles, Three as Brendon’s come to call him, nudges his palm before nipping at the ring. In seconds there’s a guy about Brendon’s height slumped in the snow. The spell doesn’t last long though, and Three turns back into his Gaggle form, the ring shining dully around his neck like a collar. That night Brendon sleeps curled up under them, with wings folded down over him to keep him warm, dreaming of things he can’t have anymore and a future he’s uncertain of.

A bright and happy giggle wakes him up. There’s no one in sight and it takes him a moment to find a little girl in a spring dress playing in the snow. She shouldn’t be out here so under dressed and when he approaches she turns a sunny grin in his direction. The magic curling around him shudders slightly and Brendon doesn’t listen to it because she’s just a little girl and she must be freezing.

Somehow, he’s able to bundle her up in his discarded winter coat without too much effort. She giggles the whole time and grins up at him again when he’s finished tucking her into his coat. In thanks, she tugs a ribbon out of one of her braids and leans up to weave it into his hair when he leans down so she can reach him better. The magic hisses and Brendon’s knees buckle. Everything hurts and he can’t breath, his fingers clawing into the snowy ground as the world starts to go black. The last thing he sees is her sunny smile turning into something dark and sinister before the world shifts into nothingness.

There’s this terrible pressure and Brendon gasps. Air fills his lungs in a terrible rush of coldness, and it makes him cough and get sick all over the snow covered ground directly to his left. The ribbon’s in two strands of unraveled threading not far from him, a stain of bright color laying forgotten over the pale shimmer of white snow. The only thing he can think beside trying to remember to breath slowly is that the Queen must have found him. It’s not a very comforting thought and he pushes it away, not wanting to dwell on it.

One, Two, and Three stand around him and cuddle him when he’s finally up to it and no longer coughing or shaking from trying to gulp down giant breaths when he should be slowly taking moderate breaths from the cool air swirling around him. He should be cold but he’s not, mostly because One, Two, and Three are close enough to block enough of the wind to keep him from unintentionally grabbing onto the chill. He leans into their warmth and does his best not to doze. It would be cruel for him to slip off into sleep after scaring them so. Yet, it’s terribly hard for him to keep himself awake and he ends up blinking sleepily up at One when he’s nudged by a warm, feather covered head. The trip back to the cave is uneventful and Brendon sleeps with One’s wings curled around him and Two and Three holding watch over the land so far below them when they finally get home.

Several weeks go by, and spring’s trying it’s best to overthrow the winter. One, Two, and Three won’t let him go out with them because they want to keep him safe. He understands, he does, but he hates being couped up. It takes one mention of him climbing down the side of the cliff alone for them to take him out with them days after spring finally overtakes the winter.

They haven’t even landed well before something catches his eye. There’s something silvery reflecting from a branch of a tall birch tree. Brendon’s not the best climber to be born but he’s average at it and after about thirty minutes he has the ring pulled from on of the branches, Gabe’s magic singing around him. This time Two comes up to him when he’s finally climbed down and takes the ring from his fingers. The transformation is so fast that Brendon doesn’t really catch a good glimpse of what Two really looks like before he’s back to being Two again.

Nothing bad happens the rest of the night or the next morning. In fact, spring’s in full bloom before anything happens. It’s early morning, and Brendon wakes up to the sound of splashing and the floundering cries of help being chopped into the water of the lake not far from where they settled down for the night after searching for One’s golden ring. He should have learned from the little girl that he shouldn’t just react, but he doesn’t think about that and instead jumps right in, swiming for the little boy floundering in the middle of the lake. The water’s still cold from the slight chill of the night time, but he’s been in water colder than this before, so it’s something he can deal with. The magic shudders in time with his body’s natural shiver, and he doesn’t notice it trying to warn him.

It takes him several minutes to get the boy to land. When he does, the boy grins at him brightly before knocking him back into the water. Short fingers tangle into his hair and he’s pushed down under the surface. Breathing is impossible and slips of liquid start to slide into his mouth and down his throat as he struggles. The magic bleeds into his skin and the chill goes away to be replaced by something calming and slow. He stops fighting and the fingers release their grip.

The feeling of something punching into his chest shocks him awake, and Brendon chokes on water as he coughs it up. Two’s staring at him, the silver of his collar reflecting the sunlight. Everything hurts and Three gently nudges him before picking him up. Sleep for the next couple of days is fitful and Brendon has nightmares of drowning, speckled with nightmares of being suffocated. The only times he’s able to stay in his dreams are the ones Gabe shows up in. They’re always short and cryptic, with extremely veiled messages of hope, yet they bring with them the blessings of sleep, so he does his best not to feel anger over not knowing what’s going on.

If they were protective before, now One, Two, and Three won’t let him out of their sight for sure this time. They don’t hunt and they don’t go out looking for the last ring. He appreciates that they care for him so much that they’re willing to sacrifice their own happiness to keep him safe but he can’t have that. He can’t have them trapped when he somehow has the means to break their enchantment. It would be selfish of him to leave them like this.

Summer eventually makes a bid for victory against spring and wins. Brendon watches the landscape change from one season to the next and waits for One, Two, and Three to fall asleep one evening before slowly making his way down the side of the cliff. It’s not impossible to do, even though it isn’t exactly a picnic either. He probably won’t be able to make it back up, but he’s sure they’ll come looking for him the moment they wake up and find him gone. 

He’s almost to the bottom of the cliff, the tips of his feet able to touch the ground, when the magic he’s become so used to wiggles between his fingers and compels him to scratch into the side of the cliff. Tiny bits of pebble crumble to the ground and dirt catches under his fingernails. Eventually there’s a small indention in the cliff side, and a grime covered gold ring starts to become uncovered. After it’s free of the cliff, Brendon pockets it and glaces up at the cave for a second before deciding to just walk around for a bit. He’s got hours of daylight and no one ever shows up around here. He’s safe here.

The sun starts its descent in the sky and somehow he’s stumbled upon a small, rutted market path. There’s the sound of wheels, and a single cart slowly makes its way down the path. Brendon thinks about hiding because the magic isn’t happy about there being people around, but he reasons it away. He hasn’t really been around anyone at all lately so of course people are going to throw him off. Also, how can it be possible for there to be four people wanting to kill him? The other two times were only solitary children.

There’s a greeting of ‘hullo’ directed at him and the man in the cart stops and fishes an orange from his wares. He presents it to Brendon and when Brendon declines, he unpeels it and tugs it into a handful of slices, handing several of the slices to the children sitting in the back of the cart. The guy leaves three slices sitting in his palm and gives one to the woman to his left before biting into the second slice. The smell of orange is heady in the air and Brendon can’t help it, he hasn’t eaten all day. His feet slowly drag him closer to the cart and he takes the last offered slice.

He can’t see the children’s faces in the back of the cart. Their focus is on something in the bottom of the cart. The guy’s face is kind though, so Brendon takes a bite and everything starts to shift around him. The children turn around to look at him, and he’s caught with the knowledge that they’re the same two children from before, wide malicious smiles painted across their faces while glee sparkles in their empty eyes. They’re the last thing he really sees as the ground rushes up to meet him. 

Time after that moves in an unusual fashion. He’s aware of things in very odd ways. Sound carries differently around him now and everything seems to feel suspended in a bubble of sluggishness. He’s not dead, yet he can’t move or even speak. Occasionally he’s able to blink his eyes open long enough to catch vague flickers of images, but other than that he’s pretty much in the dark. 

it’s some sort of enchantment, and it takes him forever to realize he _should be dead_. It’s Gabe’s magic that has put him in this state instead of letting him slip into death. He learns that One was once a prince before he was enchanted by his father’s most trusted magical advisor over matters of love. Now that One has his ring back, he’s gone back home with Two and Three to rule with them at his side. Brendon is brought along because apparently they know that he’s enchanted and can’t bear to just bury him in the ground and be done with him.

So he ends up being placed on a plush bed in what must be a grand room. Sunlight filters in most days, warming his skin, and he listens when servants come in to dust and change the sheets or his clothing. Occasionally One will come in and straighten his collar before reading lines of poetry to him, or Two will stop by and tell him stories about the prince when he was younger. It’s how Brendon learns their names. The prince is Ryan, and Two is Spencer, while Three is Jon. Of the three of them, Jon visits the most, bringing flowers for the stand near the bed by the smell of them and a cool cloth that no one else seems to think of.

Brendon does his best not to be jealous of them because they’re not his to keep. They have each other, and their marriage day is soon approaching from the snatches of gossip he hears when the maids decide to fold sheets right outside his door. Plus it’s not like his heart is his to fully give anymore and he’s just waiting for everything to finally fall into proper place. At sixteen, Gabe had told him they had to wait and their last letter talked about them still missing something. Now Brendon’s not sure what he’s waiting for anymore, just that he’s waiting.

The seasons mix together and without being told he has no idea what day or hour it is. Although he does know that Ryan’s marriage to Spencer and Jon has already occurred, because a maid walked by one day and mentioned something about it. They rarely visit if ever anymore. Either they’ve forgotten about him or have no way to break the spell, and it’s too depressing for them to slip in and check on him. They’re not the only one’s who don’t visit anymore. The maids and the servants tend to pass him by now as well. It’s lonely, and he spends more and more time trapped in his head trying his best to not get lost in memories he has no reason to dredge up.

One day, the door opens and someone new comes in. From the sound of it, they’re at the sitting table that should exist in the room somewhere doing something with paper and charcoal from what he can make out of sound and scent. Eventually the door opens again and someone else comes in. Brendon’s pretty sure they don’t even know he’s here, but that’s ok. He’s used to it by now. At least he gets to hear voices again. It’s easier to pretend he’s not alone when he can listen in on others’ conversations.

He’s pretty sure two years pass before either of the Way brothers find out that he’s not even feet from them. It’s probably an accident when they do stumble upon him anyways. They’re flailing around the room for some reason and one of them pitches onto the bed and startles. After that, the two of them always end up on his bed talking to each other and telling him stories.

Their tales are nothing like the poems Ryan used to read to him and sometimes the blood and gore they speak of follows him into his sleep. Bronzed dragons with ivory teeth battle creatures covered in crimson, who wield shields of blinding silver and weapons of the most unusual nature. Gentle river folk sneak into villages to drag their wayward younglings back into the fold, poisoning careless villagers if they get in the way. And sometimes massive trolls hunt through forests for fresh meat for their dinners. They’re violent stories where the heroes don’t anyways win, but they keep him from getting caught up in the past again. So he latches onto them and imagines the landscapes of those tales instead of living his own thoughts over and over again.

Eventually they bring a third person with them, and the younger Way brother curls into the new person during introductions. After awhile Frank is just as much of a regular as they are, and it’s weird because Brendon’s actually so close to being content with the three of them here. Yet he’s still missing that same something from before, and it’s not until there’s the mentions of a great ball happening soon that he remembers Gabe. The Queen and her heir will be showing up in attendance, which means there’s a good possibility that her most trusted advisor will be with them. And for the first time in years, Brendon wishes he wasn’t stuck like this.

The ball gets closer and closer until suddenly it’s the day of it and the castle positively hums with the festive nature of the day. Mikey and Frank show up twice to bicker about colors and to coax Gerard out from his spot on Brendon’s bed. They leave the second time in defeat and Brendon wants to smile because he’s not going to be alone, vainly trying to catch snatches of sound as they filter by during the night.

Gerard settles against the headboard and tells him a much loved story about a great evil being vanquished by some tiny creature while his fingers scritch and scratch charcoal over parchment. His words are expressive and Brendon lets his mind wander, wispy images of caves back lit by the embers of a gutted fire and a sky that sings to be seen once more flickering behind his eyelids as he listens. Eventually Gerard stops speaking, and shuffles the parchment off to the side. It confuses Brendon, because he doesn’t want Gerard to leave. He hates being alone like this. And maybe, just maybe he doesn’t like when Gerard goes away for snatches of time that Brendon can’t even decipher. Instead of leaving,Gerard leans close to him and says something about spells, a book dropped in the library earlier in the morning maybe having something important tucked into its pages, and how he could be wrong but he thinks he might have found the way to break the enchantment.

There are words ghosted against Brendon’s closed mouth before Gerard leans forward and kisses him quickly. It’s nothing more than a slight press of lips to lips, but it’s apparently enough. Brendon’s too caught up in the words to pay much attention to anything else including the kiss. They’re words he’s heard before and suddenly he’s shaking and heaving out this great big breath he didn’t even know he was holding in before shuddering. Gerard startles at his side and almost falls off the side of the bed.

Brendon knows he shouldn’t be trying to move so fast after years of being ‘asleep’ but he has the greatest urge ever to find Gabe, regardless of his shaking limbs and cotton stuffed head. He’s sure the book Gerard mentioned is one of Gabe’s favorites and was conveniently dropped. If Gabe’s finally willing to make a move to be free of the Queen then Brendon needs to be there, _he has to be there_. It doesn’t take long for Gerard to help him down to ballroom. Neither of them are in fancy clothing, Gerard’s cuffs stained with black charcoal and Brendon’s clothing several years out of date and coated in a fine layer of dust. Not that anyone notices because they’re hiding at the top of the staircase, glancing down towards the ballroom from behind the rungs of of the railing, instead of going down to mingle with anyone.

The Queen’s holding court around a portion of the dance floor, Gabe nowhere to be seen, and Ryan, Spencer, and Jon are wrapped up in each other on the side of it, watching the Queen with intent. A page scurries up to them with a tiny box before running off after Jon takes it from him. There’s the sound of a voice clearing behind them and Brendon shudders. He’s pretty sure he knows who’s behind them.

Prince Elliott is leaning against the far wall, a flute of champagne loosely held in his hand. His clothes are pressed and neat, the blue doing wonders to highlight his dirty blonde hair. It’s been years since Brendon’s seen him, but Elliott never changes, much like Brendon apparently.

“Mother’s pretty much taken over the party. You know how she never gives anything up. I think I might finally be tired of it.”

And just like that, he pushes off from the wall and goes down the stairs. They watch from the staircase as Elliott bows in front of Jon and accepts the box. The music starts up, and Brendon wants to sleep, he’s so tired. He’s leaning heavily against Gerard when Elliot takes his mother’s hand and leads her out onto the floor. The glitter of silver catches the candle light and Brendon notices a tiny butterfly comb get set into the Queen’s hair by her own son before everything blurs.

The music changes several times, but Elliot keeps his mother out on the floor until she drops from exhaustion. Brendon can’t watch this. He can’t watch Elliot poison his own mother right in front of a pleased crowd, even if he knows deep down in his heart that it’s the only way to truly be free of her. Gerard stays at his side the whole time and the two of them cling to each other while a great bustle occurs down in the ballroom.

Some time later, magic crackles around them and warmth spreads through him. Brendon looks up to find Gabe crouched in front of him and Gerard, a smarmy and pleased look on his face, much like the cats who craftily find ways to get into the cream all the time. Brendon doesn’t even think about it before he’s leaning forward and kissing Gabe with all the energy he can gather up. Gabe smiles into the kiss before deepening it. Gerard goes to move away but Brendon holds onto him tightly. Things are finally the way they should be and he’s not going to let go. Not now, not ever. They can make everything work. He knows they can.


End file.
